


Volkswagens, Redheads, and Emotional Trauma (Not necessarily in that order)

by 1eyedwombat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: "Let the good times roll", 2 redheads bein bros, Coping, Dealing With Trauma, Gen, Swearing, an appropriate story for the title, just my girl, not ship-centric, road trips!, spoilers through s13 ep23
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 01:17:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15546402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1eyedwombat/pseuds/1eyedwombat
Summary: Charlie's only been in this new, strange universe for three days before she breaks. The Winchesters won't stop... looking, at her, like they're expecting her to be the Charlie Bradbury they knew. The one that died. And isn't that a strange thought, that she's died before, albeit in another universe. A softer one, where stores are lit up and children aren't carrying angel blades.Or: the spn writers thought they could put Charlie away and ignore her for the finale, so here's what she's doing





	Volkswagens, Redheads, and Emotional Trauma (Not necessarily in that order)

Charlie's only been in this new, strange universe for three days before she breaks. The Winchesters won't stop...  _looking_ , at her, like they're expecting her to be the Charlie Bradbury they knew. The one that died. And isn't that a strange thought, that she's died before, albeit in another universe. A softer one, where stores are lit up and children aren't carrying angel blades. Where the people still believe in a righteous God and churches aren't infested with angels plotting to murder her. Sam hands her a computer, the second day, and he looks so hopeful like maybe this is what she was missing to be  _his_ Charlie. It feels foreign in her hands, she hasn't touched one since the world went to shit eight years ago. They're smaller now, and all the codes are shinier, newer. She's cheated, left behind. She was good at this once, probably the best, but she can't remember anymore. 

So when she finally cracks, finally asks for the keys to something,  _anything,_ Dean seems entirely unsurprised. Like he expected it, or saw it coming or something. It's unsettling, to be known so well by someone she's barely met. But the new jangly metal in her pocket is the most freeing thing she's felt in years, so she hugs Bobby goodbye, throws Ketch a respectful nod (something about him has always unsettled her, no matter how efficient a partner he is) and leaves. The ancient Volkswagen bug is near empty with all her worldly belongings packed inside. It's not like her world came with a lot of material items. 

And so it begins. She relearns electronics, and figures out how to stream money into her fake accounts anonymously. She'd feel bad, but honestly, these rich assholes wouldn't even notice it missing, and certainly hadn't needed it when they sided with the angels. Not that she really blamed them, it was a tempting offer, and they'd paid dearly in the end with burnt eyes and bodies violated with "holy" inhabitants. Charlie was still gonna take their shit, though. She bounces from five-star hotels to roach-ridden bed n' breakfasts, whatever suits her mood. It all feels like a luxury, the endless food, the safe beds, the people who smiled at her while doing their jobs, the people who had  _jobs_. She still keeps angel blades and guns on her, but she finds herself flinching to them less and less.

At some town in Minnesota, someone dies when she's in town. Vampire attacks, by the look of the autopsy that she hacks into. Her hands shake as she reaches for her supplies bag, weighing a machete in her hand. It glints in the green light of her motel, and it begins to shake in her palm. She pictures herself swinging it through a vampire's neck, remembers when a vampire killed her friend one night years ago. She drops the blade. Maybe it's selfish, but she's driving out of town and shooting Bobby an email on the situation within thirty minutes. She was a leader, struck fear into the shriveled hearts of demons and angels, but now she can't even kill a  _fucking vampire-_

She swerves the car to the side of the road and breaks down. Vehicles zoom past as Charlie folds into herself and sobs. This is pathetic, she's not even in danger anymore,  _she's not in danger anymore so why-_ the Beetle doesn't move for five hours. 

Charlie checks into the next hotel with a blank stare and red-rimmed eyes. Her knife gets shoved under the pillow before she allows herself to curl up and sleep. When she wakes, it's to a knock on the door. She's out of the bed, gun in one hand, blade in the other, before her eyes fully open. She could go through the window, make whoever it is think she's left, or she could hide, and utilize the element of surprise on their ass. She pivots behind the wardrobe and waits. They'll either leave, or force their way in. If it's the latter, well, she's real fucking good at fighting these days.

"Housecleaning!" 

Oh. Charlie had forgotten the Do Not Disturb sign in her exhaustion. She laughs to herself nervously, runs a hand through her hair. A shaky breath, and she calls out, 

"No thanks, I'm good!" 

Footsteps echo down the hall and she relaxes, finally dropping her weapons. Well. Maybe she should take up yoga or something. Or see a therapist.  _Hey doc, almost shot a hotel staffer today because I thought she was an angel trying to kill me. Because, you know, angels are evil. Got any Prozac for that?_ That would go over great. While she's at it, she should just check herself into a mental hospital. 

It's a week later when a familiar-looking woman walks up to her table in a restaurant Charlie's quickly deciding is way to fancy for her. As she sits down, Charlie's eyes dart through the dining area. Too many people to cause a scene ( _Child in the corner - unacceptable casualty, elderly couple two tables over - less unacceptable, young man and woman - capable of self-defense)._ Besides, this woman was there at the portal a month ago. And she was a redhead, so like, at least they had something in common. 

"It's nice to see you again, Dearie," The woman smiles as she sips her wine. When the fuck did she get wine? The waiter hasn't even been to their table yet, probably for the uppity effect of the place. Charlie wills her posture to relax, hyper-aware of the blade strapped to her leg.

"Right. What was your name again?" She lets herself slip into a casual persona. 

"Rowena"

And that's how it begins. The borrowed Volkswagen is a little less empty now with someone else in the passenger seat. Charlie's not sure why she let Rowena in the car, but the days seem a little more manageable when there's an all-powerful witch sitting next to her. Funny, witches used to terrify Charlie when her parents would read her bedtime stories of cauldrons and warts. After the angels struck, hunters and magical beings were a lot more willing to set aside their differences in favor of survival, and she had fought alongside her fair share of witches, and werewolves, and shifters, and a dozen other creatures. 

Rowena never lets it slip why she decided to join Charlie, but there's something in her attitude that makes Charlie think she's outrunning something of her own. There are days when Rowena's body sags in grief when she thinks Charlie isn't looking, and suddenly the hacker sees every one of her hundreds of years lined on her face. But they've both got past's they're not willing to talk about, so Charlie lets it slide without comment. And then there's the time Charlie spots two children in a park, running and screaming together, and she's about to head over and make sure they shut up ( _Don't make any noise, don't let them find you, if they find you you're dead please please quiet down don't cry don't-)_ before Rowena's hand on her shoulder stops her cold. Charlie snaps back into herself, and they leave the town the same day.

Charlie tries not to ask if Rowena knew the other her, the one who died. But it's late one night, and she's been drinking, and there's a thousand worse things she could say, so Charlie figures it's not that bad a question. Rowena just smiles, a little sadly, and says they met "once or twice, Dearie, but we got in a wee spat" and refuses to elaborate. That's ok, Charlie's not sure she wants to be associated with this world's Charlie, who cropped her hair and sacrificed her life for reasons she'd never get to understand. Other Charlie, who loved the Winchesters and fought with Rowena and also liked girls, but never settled down, not even in a place where it was possible. She doesn't really get Other Charlie. 

But Charlie has never known peace, not since she was 12 and her parents took just the wrong route to pick her up from a slumber party, and even this fragile sense of it cannot last. There's a phonecall, and Dean Winchester is gone, and Lucifer is dead (he's been dead in Charlie's universe for years, this is not big news), and Jack is powerless, and Michael. 

Michael is back. 

Or, not back, neither of them belong here, not she nor him, but he's followed them, he's sunk his claws into this world too, with it's running electricity and stable governments and  _happiness, why can't Michael ever let her be happy-_

Rowena doesn't stay long after that. She tries, but there's worry sunk into her eyes, and the witch must love those boys more than she lets on, because four days later she's packing her things and hugging Charlie goodbye, stress laid through her body. Maybe this is Charlie's fight too, but they haven't been through Wyoming yet, and Charlie has been meaning to see it. 

But the road is a lot lonelier now and Charlie's painfully aware of the empty car suffocating her. She sees Wyoming, and Utah, and Colorado, and she hadn't even noticed she'd been carving her way back to Kansas until a road sign told her she was 100 miles out. She want's to stay away, stay safe, but... she misses Rowena, and Bobby, and everyone else from back home. All the people who knew what it was like to see things that had once been covered in ash and death, who understood. She can't let Michael kill this world too, not a world where the kids are allowed to yell in joy and not fear.

Two months after she leaves, Charlie Bradbury heads back to Kansas.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This work is completely unedited, so feel free to let me know if there's any errors. Basically, I got stuck on the idea of Rowena and Charlie traveling the US together and dealing with their trauma, even if it didn't really turn out the way I wanted.
> 
> I'm on tumblr at Cassassinova!


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